


Stasis

by Shiraume



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 14:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiraume/pseuds/Shiraume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A <i>D.Gray-Man</i> fanfiction.  Takes place during “215th Night: In Search of Allen Walker – Beside You,” right after Kanda and Johnny tie up Allen, so spoiler alert applies.  2,115 words.  Allen/Kanda.  Rated R/NC-17 for adult situation.  Character sketch...okay, no, this is basically boypr0n.  Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Stasis

**Author's Note:**

> A _D.Gray-Man_ fanfiction. Takes place during “215th Night: In Search of Allen Walker – Beside You,” right after Kanda and Johnny tie up Allen, so spoiler alert applies. 2,115 words. Allen/Kanda. Rated R/NC-17 for adult situation. Character sketch...okay, no, this is basically boypr0n. Enjoy.

sta•sis [ **stey** -sis, **stas** -is] _noun._ the state of equilibrium or inactivity caused by opposing equal forces.

[August 16, 2012]

Johnny brushes off Allen’s concerns and goes to bed early.

Allen’s heart is still alternating between painful squeezes and double-beats, and he would have given up his bed just to ease some of his guilt, but Kanda settles on the couch, still fully-dressed, and that, it seems, to be that.

Kanda also hasn’t bothered to untie him, which strikes Allen as a trifle excessive. Sure, he cut the rope and ran the first three times, but then Kanda put Johnny’s special handcuff on him, and Johnny is now wearing the other one of the pair. Allen wouldn’t run, not if it hurts Johnny, not after Johnny nearly died because of _him_.

(That and he can’t seem to get the damned thing off him; he _tried_.)

Allen’s eyes keep wandering – quick furtive glances at the other bed followed by long stares at the ceiling. He knows it’s half guilt and half terror that keeps drawing his gaze to the other bed, where Johnny is lying with the sheet pulled up to his chin. Even when Johnny’s breathing evens out, Allen can’t relax, terrified that he might have killed Johnny after all. Just then, Kanda turns his head to fix him with a cool stare.

“We need to wake him every other hour. He’s probably concussed,” Kanda says, but for once doesn’t sound like he wants to murder Allen in his sleep for the extra trouble.

“I can do that,” Allen volunteers immediately. “Just...untie me and I’ll—”

Kanda looks distinctly unimpressed. “So you can run again? Not a chance.”

“I can’t run with this handcuff on,” Allen points out. He’s beginning to hurt all over because Kanda, being a sadistic ass, hog-tied him so tightly that the ropes are cutting off his circulation. He’s going to have rope burns for days.

A snort is his only answer. Kanda doesn’t even raise his head.

“Kanda.” Allen twists in his bonds, then stops with a frustrated sigh. “I can’t feel my hands or feet anymore. What if an Akuma attacks while we’re asleep?”

“I can take care of it just fine,” Kanda points out, matter-of-fact, with just a hint of smugness underneath. “Without your stupid white head getting in the way, in fact.”

Damn Kanda, but he’s right. According to Johnny, after he passed out earlier, Kanda annihilated an entire battalion of Akuma all by himself. Which grates on his pride even without Kanda rubbing it in his face. But Allen’s eyes fall on Johnny’s sleeping form again, and he is reminded this isn’t about pride. “But Johnny’s injured,” he says, and though his tone falls a bit closer to wheedling than factual, the important thing is: Kanda habitual scowl turns to a considering frown. “We can’t take that chance with Johnny,” Allen presses his advantage. “Please. I promise not to run.”

Kanda’s expression doesn’t change, but finally, he sits up with a soft, “Che.” And – Allen is still gawking in surprise – actually moves off the couch to come and untie him. Allen sits up and rubs his wrists gingerly, chafing the skin to restart the blood flow. His left hand isn’t as sensitive as human skin, and doesn’t seem as affected by the rope burn, but his right hand is completely numb. “Ow,” he complains, but without much heat. “Did you have to tie me so tightly?”

Allen has enough time to squeak in surprise, then all breath is knocked out of him as he is slammed back to the mattress. Without missing a beat, Kanda ties the rope around his right wrist and loops the other end around a bedpost, and repeats the process with his left hand. Allen stares at the lengths of rope keeping his hands tied to the bedposts, then stares at Kanda some more, who straightens with an annoyingly smug smirk.

“You do realize I can just invocate and slice off the rope with my claws, right?”

In fact, that’s what he could have done in the first place. Should have, anyway. But Kanda had gotten up to free him, and—he’d forgotten. Kanda always had a way of derailing Allen’s thoughts, and apparently that hasn’t changed.

“You promised you won’t,” Kanda reminds him, and judging from the defensive frown, the same thought had just occurred to Kanda as well.

“I promised not to _run_ ,” Allen counters, and wonders what he’s trying to accomplish, keeping up this pointless banter. The thing is, Allen isn’t stupid, no matter how many times Cross told him otherwise. Kanda’s eyes are different, and if Allen hadn’t been so focused on running away before, one good look would have told him as much. Whatever else they might have had between them before, rivalry, antagonism, grudging respect, or mutual annoyance, everything has shifted. They now stand in different relations to each other, and Allen cannot help but sense that _there is no going back_.

“I’d haul your sorry carcass right back,” Kanda returns, and his voice is almost...pleasant. Although it could be the prospect of tripping Allen and beating him to a pulp before dragging him back, somehow Allen doubts that’s the only thing. This is Kanda, after all – and from Kanda, threats are the closest he comes to promises.

“Only if you can catch me,” Allen whispers, and doesn’t know why he does. All he knows is that he’s terribly aware of Kanda’s hand still clasping his left wrist. And the contact feels shockingly hot, even with the Innocence’s duller sensory perception.

“I already did,” Kanda says, and his voice is equally low, almost a purr. Kanda’s hand tightens, and Allen’s mouth suddenly goes dry, remembering the warm weight of Kanda’s body on top of his earlier, pinning him down on the cobblestone, clown costume and paint and all. It really wasn’t one of his sterling moments, and with Kanda any discernible weakness is one too many.

But Kanda’s eyes are dark and searching, and Allen swallows drily, wondering if Kanda is aware of the way his hand slowly moves down Allen’s arm. Kanda’s hand is callused but still soft, fingers pressing into the Innocence-darkened skin. Allen shivers and briefly wonders how those fingers would feel sliding over his natural skin.

This is crazy thinking. The quickest path to a whole lot of trouble. Given this is him and Kanda, the trouble is guaranteed to be hellish at best. At worst it might actually be lethal. He really isn’t looking forward to feeling the business end of Mugen again – the memory of the stab is still fresh enough to make him cringe – and if Kanda can just let go of him, they can still—

There is a flicker of something in Kanda’s eyes, something that might have been hesitance if it lingered a bit longer. Kanda’s lips stop inches away from his, close enough to feel each other’s breath, and Kanda’s hand on his left arm is no longer restraining. For a long moment, they stare at each other. Kanda’s face is nearly blurred at such close distance, but the question is clear in his eyes.

That it’s a question and not a demand might be the reason Allen cranes his head upward, closing the last distance. Kanda’s lips are warm and a bit dry, but Kanda’s tongue quickly takes an interest in Allen’s. Allen sighs a little into the kiss, and to his surprise, Kanda’s weight presses more firmly on the mattress in response. One of Kanda’s hands is touching the side of Allen’s neck with surprising gentleness while the other hand scrabbles to untie the rope around Allen’s wrist. Finally his right wrist is freed, and the smart thing would be to help Kanda untie his left wrist as well. So Allen does the least smart thing and wraps his right arm around Kanda’s back to pull him down, so that they can kiss again.

A few impatient tugs set his left hand free, and now he can put his arms around Kanda properly. Kanda’s coat, standard uniform for the Exorcists, is heavy and thick, pressing on his skin through the parted shirt mercilessly, and Allen gasps when the weight presses on his still-healing wound on his abdomen. Thankfully, Kanda immediately shifts, rising up to look at him with – is that actually concern?

“Are you all right?”

Holy shit, it is. Now Allen’s seen it all.

“I’m fine,” he manages between breaths, resisting the urge to touch and make sure his wound hasn’t reopened. The white feathers of his Innocence sticking out of the wound freaked him out when he first saw it, and he hasn’t tried to touch it since. Kanda pulls back his shirt, and – just like with Johnny, Allen gasps, feeling a pull from his Innocence, as if reaching out, and Allen prays Kanda won’t touch him there. He’s not sure what can happen if Kanda touches his activated Innocence in his current state, and would rather not find out. His control is still so uncertain...

Kanda’s hand brushes over his side instead, almost like an apology, as if Kanda doesn’t quite dare touch the wound he’d inflicted himself. And now Allen gasps for a completely different reason. Kanda’s hand moves up, tracing the markings on the left shoulder, where Innocence is fused to his body. Allen just barely suppresses a moan, pressing the heel of his right hand over his mouth. Kanda pulls at his wrist, prying his hand away from his mouth, and great, now Allen can die of embarrassment.

Instead of mocking him mercilessly, Kanda leans down to kiss him again, swallowing the faint sound in the back of Allen’s throat. Since Kanda doesn’t seem inclined to bother with thinking, Allen is happy to forego thought process entirely and push against Kanda impatiently. It takes him a moment to unbutton the coat far enough to get at Kanda’s waistband, but it’s worth the effort to hear Kanda’s breath hitch. Kanda remains careful to keep his weight off, however, and Allen has to sit up to reach him properly. After jostling each other a few times, they finally find an angle that works, although Allen is beginning to develop a crick in his neck, and Kanda’s back has got to be killing him. They don’t have time for anything more complicated, but Kanda’s hand on his cock makes Allen close his eyes and shudder, feeling warm for the first time since he left the Order. Kanda’s hand is gentle even as his teeth catch Allen’s lower lip with enough force to draw blood. And Allen can’t get enough blood upward to wonder if his hand is moving over Kanda’s cock with anything resembling a regular rhythm. But Kanda is panting in his ear, and somehow his utter failure to negotiate breathing and moving his hand at the same time seems quite insignificant. Kanda’s clothed thigh is tense and hot against his own, and Allen spares a moment of regret that they can’t strip down to feel bare skin. Then he’s jerking upward with a small cry, barely stifled against Kanda’s shoulder. Seconds later, Kanda breathes out and tenses. Allen shivers, his body still singing with pleasure, feeling hot breath hiss through Kanda’s clenched teeth next to his ear.

Afterward, they stay locked together for a long moment, until Johnny turns over in his sleep with unintelligible mutter that sounds suspiciously like a chemical formula. They both freeze at the sound, wide eyes meeting in a moment of shared terror, then in embarrassment as they recall Johnny – thankfully still asleep – is lying all of one foot away on the next bed. So much for the afterglow.

Right, Allen isn’t going to kid himself. “If we fall asleep like this,” he manages after a moment to catch his breath, “Johnny will have a heart attack in the morning.” Kanda grunts and moves off the bed to clean up and straighten his clothing. Allen does the same, though he decides his messy hair is a lost cause, running hopelessly sticky fingers through them with a jerky motion. He keeps waiting for Kanda to announce this means nothing, a mistake really, just a moment’s whim. And he’s okay with that. Really.

Kanda merely settles down on the couch with a muttered, “If you snore, I’ll kill you in your sleep,” and closes his eyes.

Another five minutes of staring doesn’t induce Kanda to open his eyes again, and finally, Allen gives up for the night and lies down. The sheets smell faintly like Kanda: something cool and metallic accompanied by faint scent of lotus blossoms. After stealing a quick glance at Kanda, who still has his eyes closed, Allen inhales deeply, breathing in the mixed scents.

Allen thinks his dreams will be soothingly absent tonight.

__

_Finis_

  



End file.
